


Twosome

by klarolineagainnaturally



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Klaroline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klarolineagainnaturally/pseuds/klarolineagainnaturally
Summary: Combination of two drabble prompts from Kait: 'college student!KC, unintentionally stuck together somewhere on campus (they're like kinda distant friends?? not rivals, think yearning/pining that leads to fluff)' + 'Klaroline as neighbors, one of them is sexiled from their apartment so they end up hanging out'
Relationships: Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson
Comments: 45
Kudos: 75





	1. I

Finals week will be the death of Caroline. The choice of Politics for a semester had proven to be an ill one; there were too many names to remember and too much jargon to comprehend. She blames Stefan for pushing them all to take a class together, though his own inability to understand the work seems to be punishment enough.

“Okay, I need coffee if we’re going to tackle Williamson tonight,” Katherine announces, practically slamming her hands on the table as she stands. She gives the shushing librarian nothing more than an eye roll and places her hands on her hips.

Elena, her sister, lifts a brow. “Starbucks?” she inquires, pen dangling from her fingers. It’s an oddity that she had actually chosen to attend the same college as her twin when their personalities are such polar-opposites. Katherine is brash and outgoing while Elena is sincere and passive. It’s lucky, really, as they’re hard to tell apart by face alone.

Katherine looks impassive. “Duh,” leaves her mouth low and her pupils are moving upward. In fact, their love for Starbucks coffee seems to be the one thing they do have in common. It’s sweet to see when they rock up to class, matching cups filled with lattes in their hands.

“Count me in!” Elena jumps up, swiping her phone off the desk. She does well to see through every impolite action of her sister’s — it had taken Caroline at least two months to realise the lack of _true_ disdain in Katherine’s words. She absently brushes out the early knots forming in her hair and says, “Stefan? Bonnie?”

Stefan’s reply is barely a mumble, “Yeah, alright.” His sweatshirt hood is drooping over his forehead and the stain from their previous all-nighter (Red Bull if her memory serves her) is still present. His Freshman year had been the most telling of his youngest sibling status; Caroline had dropped off an assignment only to be stunned by the _state_ of his dorm room. 

“I could use a break,” Bonnie rationalises, stretching out her arms for a brief moment. When she rises from her chair, she looks at Caroline expectantly. She has come to be the only person keeping Caroline sane since they roomed together in Freshman year; her collection of Wiccan paraphernalia was and continues to be bewildering but Caroline’s in awe of how extensive her knowledge is.

“I had coffee earlier,” Caroline answers, eyes trained on her notebook as she perfects the array of borders and doodles organising her words. She isn’t sure coffee will help their study session at all. Katherine tapped out midway through the second reading and tapped _on_ the edge of the table incessantly from then on. Elena and Bonnie try their best to make sense of the material by reading it aloud to each other while Stefan just stares at the pages mindlessly. The only person who really understands the material for more than just a string of separate words is...

“Klaus?” Caroline can’t help but lift her head when Katherine calls his name. She doesn’t dare to look at him for long, only a quick glance before she stares at Katherine, wide-eyed.

He’s brushing eraser fallout off his page. He sighs lightly and expresses, “I think I’ll stay, as well.”

“Of course,” Katherine manages but the purse of her lips is a dead giveaway. She’s just itching to giggle and gloat at the impending alone time Caroline and Klaus will share. _Don’t tell me you don’t want him to rail you, cupcake. I see you staring at his ass_ were the words Katherine had put so crudely after their first study session. Caroline instantly shoots daggers with her stare, though Katherine is barely containing a laugh in response. “See you guys soon,” she sings before they all stroll away.

Caroline watches them for as long as she can before bringing her gaze back to the table. Klaus is sitting opposite, eyes locked on her, and offers a pressed smile. She reciprocates, albeit less comfortably, and looks down at her page of cleanly displayed notes. She now regrets not tagging along. She could have stressed the need to stretch her legs, could have just agreed to the trip, but she hadn’t been thinking. And now, she’s sitting alone with the man she’s been content to avoid all semester.

He’s a new addition to their group. Katherine had scoped him out as the best in their class and quickly coaxed him into joining and _leading_ their study sessions. She can tell he’s unimpressed by their effort and even less impressed by having been tricked into the job of explaining concepts he knows like the back of his hand as if they’re all five years old. So it comes as a surprise to her that he even bothers to show up every Friday. He hadn’t struck her as the punctual type either but he’s there and out of breath ten minutes before they’re even set to begin. And while _she_ makes it a point to be punctual, she’s been betraying her own work ethic to delay any lengthy conversations.

Klaus is attractive in an ‘ _effortless and he knows it_ ’ kind of way and she’s embarrassed to admit she stares at him more often than not. The times he has caught her are thankfully few but every time, he cocks his head as if to ask ‘ _is there something on my face?_ ’. This leads her to blush furiously and shake her head before gluing her eyes to her book. She knows she’s more than capable of landing herself a date; pageants did wonders in freeing her from pesky insecurities and made her no stranger to competition. But Klaus feels like a wall too high to climb. And she _would_ like nothing more than to climb him (a thought she’ll reserve for her mind and her mind _only_ ). He knows not only the extent of his attractiveness (that damn accent is partly to blame) but his intelligence, too.

“So, how’s—”

“Did you—”

They both attempt to speak. Caroline has just lifted her head but it feels as though he hasn’t even glanced down for a second.

Her cheeks twinge with warmth. She shakes her head and lifts a hand out. “You go first.”

“No, I insist, sweetheart,” he takes not a single beat to reply. His stare is such an intense array of blues that she’s sure any woman would be compelled to accept any offer of his.

Caroline considers protesting it, suddenly so conscious of her own question. “Um, okay,” she can barely mutter, twisting her lips. His own lips are twitching. God, they’re too pretty to be real. She clears her throat and begins, “Did you— oh my god.”

She isn’t superstitious. She prefers reality to fiction and thinks horoscopes are too uncertain for her to accept. But the sudden low rumble that interrupts, swiftly accompanied by shaking tables and juddering rows of bookcases, tells her the universe would like to decline her request for a _freaking_ break.

“Christ—”

“Under the tables!” they hear amongst the panic. It’s the elderly librarian, who, despite her likely questionable joints, is already crouching beneath her desk.

Though they share a wide eyed look, she has no time to contemplate on how handsome he is nor worry about how she’s appearing in return. They’re both under the table on their hands and knees and halting suddenly to refrain from knocking heads in a matter of seconds. As she curls up, bringing her knees to her chest, he appears less affected. “Fancy meeting you here,” he teases with a grin. “ _Do_ continue your question.”

It’s more reflexive than anything when she scoffs, “I don’t think now is the appropriate time.”

Klaus is slow to settle against the poorly maintained carpet beneath them. He crosses his legs and leans back onto his hands before saying laxly, “Nonsense, all my best conversations have been under a table.”

“During earthquakes?” she questions with raised eyebrows.

He mirrors her expression but his grin remains present. “A different sort of earthquake, love.”

She finds the way he’s eyeing her to be more challenging than she can handle. It’s difficult to know how serious he is but she huffs out her disapproval nonetheless, “Ugh.” She feels a small hitch in her chest when insecurity, what she is certain is impossible, is cast across his eyes. He doesn’t struggle to mask it, however, his jaw tight. The whole display leaves her more guilty than anything. She attempts to muse, staring at her knees, “I hope the others are okay.”

“I’m sure the Starbucks across the road is most structurally sound,” he assures her, no wound of her previous insult evident. She isn’t sure where to go from there. They don’t talk. She’s not even sure what a full conversation with him is like. Before she can rack her brains for some weak prompt, he conjectures in amusement, “On the bright side, even if they become trapped, they have enough coffee to keep them going for at least a week.”

She lifts her head then, glares at him as she spits, “You’re not funny.”

His head lolls gently and his lips curl. “Aren’t I?”

He is. And it’s infuriating. Though they don’t talk, she’s not ignorant to his consistent dry wit. Stefan tends to bear the brunt of it but he’s also the only one dumb enough to take the bait (something she thinks with _fondness_ ). What’s even worse is that, despite how late it is and how stressed they all are, her eyes are just glued to that stubbly jaw of his.

“No,” she replies succinctly and lifts her chin for a moment. When the silence settles, she breathes in. “What were you going to ask me?”

“I believe I insisted on you first,” he reminds her softly.

It’s then that they feel a short aftershock beneath them. She’s questioning her choice to study on the West Coast more than ever now. She pokes her tongue out to wet her lip, feels a thrill run through her when he catches it with his stare. “Well,” she swallows and squares her shoulders, “I’m reneging that.”

“Alright,” he replies, eyes sparkling, and folds his arms. “How’s your psych project coming along?”

It isn’t the least bit what she had expected. Her lips take more effort to part than they should but she manages to drag the answer from her throat, “It’s fine. Cami’s a little ambitious.” She’s being kind to her partner with that description; Cami is incredibly smart but somehow, even more anal retentive than herself. Her eyes suddenly narrow and she studies him as she says, “I don’t remember telling you about it.”

Klaus presses his lips into a smile and if she’s not mistaken, the tips of his ears become pink. “I may have eavesdropped on your rant to Katherine on Monday,” he eventually offers, letting his eyes travel along the floor and up her frame.

It’s a painfully long time before he reaches her eyes but the moment he does, she can only verbalise a whispering, “Oh.”

His smile grows and she’s presented with two dimples on each of his cheeks; she shifts uncomfortably at the sight as she feels heat pooling within her. “I promise I had only pure intentions.”

The not so pure lilt in his voice makes her laugh and he seems to smile even wider. “I’m sure Greta would beg to differ,” she points out, pausing for dramatic effect, and presses a finger to her lips, “or was that April?”

His eyes narrow and she nervously wonders if she’s struck a nerve. She wouldn’t say Katherine is always the most credible but her gossip is often enlightening and has helped her in the past. The quiet he leaves becomes too much and her eyes grow wide. It’s then that he proclaims grandly, “Ah well, I’ve been with so many women, how could I ever keep track?” A low chuckle breaks from his lips and she’s balling her fists in her lap at the sound. “Do you really think so low of me?”

Caroline ponders the question and concludes that any conceding will only offer him ammunition so she replies, “Yes.”

His smile is somewhat disappointed and her heart sinks. “Your turn,” he murmurs.

She nibbles on her lower lip and shifts her position once again. This time, she’s following his suit and leaning her hands back beside him. “I…” she’s careful with every word, “was just going to ask whether you had a nice visit home.”

When she looks at him from under her lashes, he’s offering his dimples again. “ _Now_ who’s eavesdropping?”

“Shut up,” she quips in return, knocking her shoulder against his. “It’s not like we talk anyway.”

“No, we don’t,” Klaus expresses it with great disappointment. It’s unlike him. Everything so far has been unlike him. She holds her breath in wait. “I suppose that’s why we’ve resorted to getting to know each other by less than acceptable means.” He morphs his lips into a warm and comforting smile this time. “Perhaps we should rectify that.”

“Right now?” Caroline hates to nitpick but conversations with a guy she’s been fantasising over... _under a table_...do _not_ soothe her nerves, _especially_ when those fantasies are in such similar settings.

“It’ll help pass the time,” he brings her back to reality. “This time, however, I _must_ insist you go first.”

His gaze is challenging once again; _fuck_ is all she can think. “Okay…” She hums and begins to draw circles in the blush-red carpet. “What’s your favourite food?” the words trail out of her.

“Really, love?”

She straightens up and looks blankly at him. “What?”

“You could stand to be a _little_ more scandalous.” Klaus teases her with raised eyebrows and a knock against her shoulder. “You really want to know my favourite food?”

“Yes!” she replies haughtily but maintains the hush volume. “What do you want me to ask? Your favourite sex position?” She’s starting to ramble and her eyes are animated as she carries on, “‘Cause as far as I’m aware, we don’t know each other well enough to get _scandalous_.” She finishes with one frozen _jazz hand_ and by the look on his face (surprised but moments away from falling apart in amusement), she’s realising she needs to keep her _freaking_ mouth shut.

“Steak,” he rushes to answer before she can begin to comprehend how embarrassed she is. Her mouth is hanging open, no emotion registering on her face. His eyes soften and he clarifies, “My favourite food.”

She can only manage a slow nod at first. It takes her another second but she rasps out, “Good to know.” She must be bright red, bright _strawberry_ red. Never, in the _history_ of humanity, has anyone been so foot-in-mouth. She’ll just have to drop the class. Maybe become a hermit. That would do nicely.

Klaus regards her and his soft eyes begin to spark with interest. He inches in, his voice hush and grin on display, “And as much as I would _love_ to answer your other question now, I’d be happy to show you later down the line,” she pauses to suppress a chuckle, “if it really is such a burning question.”

Her throat is incredibly dry all of a sudden and she’s cursing the lack of A/C in their library. She can barely cover the warbling in her voice and the complementing breathlessness as she delivers a reply, “Wh— well, I—”

“So, I said to Greta, I said, _get fu_ —” the loud, familiar voice manages to cut her off. And like that, the universe finally offers her a break. There’s a stretch of silence. A moment later, Katherine’s crouching low (something she’ll curse them for _making_ her do later on, though they all know it’s her inclination to drama that does it) and staring dumbfoundedly at the pair of them. “Uh, hey, guys…” Her voice is musical and laced with amusement, “How’s it going under there?”

“Fine!” Caroline offers with the brightest smile and highest pitch. When she looks towards Klaus, he’s grinning ear to ear and she wants nothing more than to slap him out of it... _and maybe kiss him, too_. She throws another look at Katherine, who is now, too, grinning. She stammers a reply, “Y-you didn’t feel the earthquake?”

Katherine rolls her eyes ridiculously so and flicks a strand of hair from her face. “ _Please_ , it was barely a tremble.”


	2. II

“It’s three a.m. - what are you doing up?” Caroline rasps in disapproval. She had prepared her phone, a round of tetris, to wait for him but he answered before the screen could even load.

Klaus greets her with his squinting eyes, the fluorescent lights of the hallway leaking into his small apartment. He’s wearing a slouched, black henley and sweatpants that she won’t even entertain considering the outline of. He ruffles his short curls and explains, “My lovely Art History professor decided to pull forward a deadline to, quote, ‘shake things up’.” His voice is groggy and awfully stimulating to her drunk senses. He looks her up and down and quirks his head. “What’s your excuse?”

“I’ve been sexiled,” she huffs and crosses her arms. She realises that in doing so, her already displayed cleavage is making itself known. The moment his eyes begin to wander, she drops her hands to her sides and straightens herself. “Kat met this dude at the bar and basically bribed me for the apartment. Bonnie’s visiting her grandma and Elena’s at Stefan’s. Can I come in?”

Yes, Katherine was  _ most _ thrilled when Klaus mentioned moving into their building for the second semester. His own building had fallen to some questionable conditions and, while Stefan had excitedly proposed becoming ‘roomies’, he wasn’t so desperate nor indignant to not rent a new place of his own. She was thankful that he was at  _ least _ two floors above them, enough to keep Katherine’s obnoxiously loud teasing out of his earshot, though that didn’t stop her from moaning out on the stairwell.

Klaus coughs out the roughness of his throat and steps back, gesturing inwards. “Well, I hope you got a good deal out of it,” he murmurs as she begins to pass.

She presses her lips to avoid an obvious shiver. “Coffee and one of those amazing pastries from the coffee shop on Third,” she answers brightly, turning on her heels to face him.

“Could be worse.” He grins just a touch and she bites her lip. “Would you like a cup now?”

She begins to open her mouth but pouts. “I have class at ten and I’d like to get at least some sleep when she’s finally done,” she laments, resting her weight on one foot. She twists to view his living area and twists back to see him tiredly admiring her frame, hands in his pockets. It’s probably the least amount of clothing he’s seen her in and she’s wondering what his teeth might feel like peeling it off.  _ Fuck _ . She clears her throat and he seems to twitch into reality. “Mind if I chill on the couch? I promise to be quiet.”

“Not at all. I actually just finished.” He straightens his back and brings his arms into a fold. His...incredibly... _ appropriately _ toned arms. He offers, more alert this time, “Fancy a movie? Will that pass enough time?”

She’s stuck in a stare, her eyes drifting across the length of his forearm. Absentmindedly, she answers, “Maybe two and,” she pauses to roll her eyes — Katherine had been particularly enthusiastic about this guy, “an episode of Friends.”

The laugh that escapes him is loud and somehow even more charming than his usual demeanour. It’s been months since their conversation under that table and since then, things have progressed to a painfully slow degree. They talk more, she happily arrives those ten minutes earlier to prepare with him, but it’s friendly...even if their battle of stares do become heated at times. He tilts his head and gestures to the living area before reasoning, “I can’t argue that she isn’t thorough.”

Caroline takes the lead around the front of the couch. She widens her eyes and lets her jaw hang animatedly with disgust. “Tell me about it.” She stops herself midway, her body hovering over the cushions, to add, “Actually,  _ please _ don’t,” and finally sits.

He slumps down beside her, those damn arms reaching over the back of the couch, as she kicks off her heels and curls up. “As you wish,” it’s said low and with a curling pair of lips.

It takes everything in her not to take her stare just a few inches lower. Drawing a hesitant breath, she attempts to lighten the atmosphere by joking, “I mean I’d be jealous if it didn’t cost me valuable sleep.”

Klaus grins widely and she frowns. It’s too devilish to be trusted. He shifts inwards to mutter, “Salvatore not keeping you warm enough at night?”

She realises now that she should have never mentioned her brief period of dating Stefan in Freshman year. It was a total mistake in retrospect — he was obsessed with Elena and she was just looking for someone to warm her bed. Her empty expression slowly stretches out into offence. “You’re  _ hilarious _ !” she squeaks, grasping at the nearest pillow to launch at his face. His eyes grow in surprise and he’s quick to intercept, grabbing the other side of the pillow. Struggling against him, she insists, “No, really, they should give you an award!”

Klaus is stronger than she’s happy to admit and it sends a rush of electricity through her when he yanks her forward and twists her around until her back is pressed against the cushions. Settling his hands either side of her head, he lifts a brow and smirks. “You were saying, sweetheart?”

She’s lying there, a mess of blonde curls spread across the space beneath her, and it’s abundantly clear that his blue eyes are swirling with an unmeasured level of lust. “Okay fine, I yield,” she huffs and looks at him dully. “ _ Please _ get off me so we can watch something.”

He presses his lips before he can chuckle and leans back onto his knees. Holding out a hand to her, he asks, “Netflix or Disney Plus?”

Caroline accepts it and he pulls her upwards. When she’s upright, the smell of his cologne, a mix of sandalwood and jasmine, is awfully inviting. He twitches his brow and she masks her distraction with a giggle, “Whoa, Klaus Mikaelson has  _ two _ streaming subscriptions? Mothers lock up your daughters.” She shifts against the couch until they’re a few inches apart but doesn’t bother to do more, resting her left side against the couch.

Klaus’ dimples sink into his cheeks and he shrugs before mirroring her position. “Yes, I am now, in fact, a hot commodity.”

She brightens up, eyebrows jumping. “In that case, I’ve been dying to watch Zootopia.”

He props his right elbow up onto the back of the couch and rests his chin in his palm. Drumming his fingers atop his lips, he murmurs, “I wasn’t aware anthropomorphic animals were your thing, love.”

Caroline snorts back, “Says the guy with the wolf bedspread.” Her cheeks go pink at the sight of his instantaneous grin; she hadn’t meant to snoop in his bedroom the last time she was there. It had...just happened.

Though she braces herself for his teasing, he lets his expression soften. “Touché,” he concedes. “How was your night out on the town?”

Her own expression falls slightly and his does in turn. Offering a tired shrug, she recalls, “It was okay. This guy kept trying to bother me all night.” The way his jaw tightens leaves her heart thrumming. She attempts to reassure him with a smile. “Luckily, Kat kicked him in the crotch.”

“Those six inch heels are bound to do some irreparable damage,” Klaus is easy to tease. He looks down and takes a hold of her wrist; it’s careful, gentle, but it’s undoubtedly more thrilling than any other act before. He rests his thumb on her pulse point and prompts her, “Are you alright, though?”

His gaze is heavy on her, eyes piercing with concern. She wants to kiss him right then and there. Forgive her. Her last date was with a tub of ice cream and reruns of Friends. “Yeah,” is the only thing she can struggle out of her mouth for a moment. She looks briefly at his hand on her wrist and utters, “You should have come.”

He hums and his thumb begins to brush back and forth against her skin, “Hm...listen to gaudy music and pretend that I’m interested in talking about ‘the football game, bro’ or stay in the ‘frat boy free’ zone of my apartment…” His eyes drift away but return with much amusement.

Caroline can’t help but lean into his touch, let her voice fall to a hush as she offers, “Or listen to the ‘gaudy’ music and dance with me.”

“I might be persuaded by the latter.” He teases the space between them, his breath ghosting her cheek as he mutters, “A good dance partner is hard to find.”

She wants so much to breach the space but a thought crosses her mind. “Why do you put up with us?” she asks abruptly and his forehead creases. Why is it so attractive when he does that? Straightening up just a little and flicking out her free hand, she whines, “I mean…you’re way too good for our study group and I’ve seen your schedule! You have Art History before our sessions, which is all the way across campus! And—“ She interrupts herself when he’s silently chuckling, failing to cover it with his right hand. “Why are you laughing?”

Klaus’ laugh finally subsides, though it ends with another bursting chuckle. He lowers his head, glances at the contact of their skin, and offers her eye-contact once more before replying, “I should think that’s obvious, love.”

It’s now that she wishes she were a little more drunk. She could do with another shot of liquid courage...or two. Well, she decides, life is short and she’s more entranced by his stare than ever. Wetting her lip briefly, she muses, “You know you still haven’t answered _that_ _question_ and it’s been...what? Three months?”

She registers a flash of surprise but he soon suppresses it. He glances aside momentarily and when he takes her in again, his voice his husky, “And I believe I said I’d be happy to show you.”

Caroline tilts her head a degree, lets her tongue swipe over her bottom teeth as a grin overcomes her. “So why haven’t you?”


	3. III [Final]

Caroline registers a (second) brief flitter of shock on Klaus’ face. It looks endearing on him and she’s deciding that she’ll do her best to recreate it from now on. “I have a penchant for good timing,” he eventually lulls out.

She presses her lips tightly. She’s on the comedown from a drunk night out. Not drunk enough to jump his bones nor sober enough to realise that thinking this  _ may _ be a bad idea. Still, her voice crackles as she inquires, “How’s the timing now?”

He chuckles. It’s low and accompanied with a soft brush of his thumb over the delicate of her wrist. “Not terrible but,” he hums, breathing out if only to punish her, “I want you to be as sound of mind as possible when I show you exactly what my answer is.”

Caroline swallows and does her best to maintain an unaffected gaze. “Noted,” she replies airily and breaks from his grasp. The hint of disappointment in his eyes doesn’t linger but, sitting back against the pillows, she feels guilty nonetheless. In an attempt to leaven the atmosphere, she breaks out into a bashful smile. “I wouldn’t want to fall asleep on you.”

That incites a change in his demeanour. His shoulders loosen and he rises from the couch. “If you’re tired, love, you’re welcome to my bed,” he offers with about as much nonchalance as she’s ever seen him with but clears his throat when she stares blankly. “Strictly for sleeping,” he assures, holding out a hand.

“Sure...thanks,” she murmurs out after much thought and takes his hand. The room spins just a touch when he brings her upright but his free arm looks prepared to steady her. She slips from him once again and though he presses his lips, he starts the walk to his bedroom. She fumbles momentarily to adjust the bottom of her dress before following and calls out, “I don’t know if I trust Kat to remember to text me.”

“Here,” Klaus mutters, outstretching a large, grey t-shirt when she arrives. She blinks in bewilderment and he smiles. He nods at her attire as he adds, “I suppose you wouldn’t want to sleep in that dress as lovely as it is.”

Her lips part and she looks down at the dangerously low position of her cleavage. “Sequins don’t really scream comfort,” she coughs, clinging to her arm. She soon accepts the item of clothing and turns to the wall. She throws it over her head, her words muffled under the fabric, “Thank you, Klaus.” She can’t help the gentle sniff that comes. His scent is intoxicating with those earthy notes so present.

She’s shimmying her dress out from under the shirt and kicking her heels off when she hears Klaus say, “I’ll just be in the other room.”

His footsteps go quiet a moment later but she calls out, “Wait—” Though she nearly trips on a stray shoe, she’s quick on her feet. She returns to the living room, unabashed by the bare state of her legs. “What are you doing?”

Klaus is already picking up a cushion when he receives her in surprise. His brows furrow and he attempts to explain, “I assumed you would want some peace and quiet—”

“No.”

He stills. The cushion in his hand hangs loosely until it settles on the couch. “Pardon?”

Caroline shakes her head and steps forward until he’s in arms length. “No no no,” she begins, taking a firm grasp of his hand. “I’m the one who practically barged my way in here at  _ three _ a.m.”

His hand tenses under her touch for a moment but he softens with a grin. “I recall letting you in quite willingly, love.”

She’s already tugging him back into the bedroom before he can make any solid arguments. She refuses to look back, however, when she’s marching. “Well, I wasn’t supposed to sleep here and I am not going to let you sleep on the couch!”

“I don’t mind. The couch is comfortable enough—”

  
Caroline brings them to a halt at the middle of the bedroom, the edge of the bed brushing her legs, and reprimands him with her index finger aimed, “Shut up. No couch is comfortable and you  _ know _ it isn’t. We have the exact same couch and it’s the  _ worst _ !”

He presents an exasperated smile and tilts his head. “Granted, but wouldn’t you—”

This time, she holds both palms up and flits them out. “Whatever you’re about to say, my answer is no. I’m not stealing your bed.” He seems to surrender, letting his lips seal shut and she grins in triumph. The moment lingers but she soon snorts, “Besides, we’re not  _ ten _ , I can share with a boy.”

Klaus’ mouth twitches and he raises a brow. His voice is dangerously low as he asks, “Can you now?”

“Yes.” She nods with a child-like firmness and parts from him. She climbs into the bed, doing her best to hold her tongue at the wolf printed on his sheets. She clears her throat and warns, “Just don’t kick me. I’m not afraid to kick back.”

Klaus is standing at the edge of the bed when he says, “I wouldn’t doubt it,” and proceeds to climb in beside her.

The sudden closeness makes her flush red this time. She’s thankful that he turns off the lamp beside him so that the darkness can save her from total embarrassment. “Good,” she squeaks before the silence settles in. “So, um…”

He’s on his side, arm propped up on the pillow. He suggests gently, “Goodnight?”

She sinks down into the mattress and does her best to avoid his general silhouette. “Right, y-yes. Goodnight.”

* * *

It’s still dark when Caroline wakes up. Her throat feels dry and  _ seriously _ disgusting. And her head is  _ pounding _ . The round of tequila shots Katherine had ordered were battling with the pina colada she had downed not long after. She’s not cold. She’s surprisingly warm. She lets out a tired and shallow breath before her eyes struggle open.

What she finds is that her hand is slipped right under his henley, fingers pressed into his abdominal muscles. And not only that, but her thigh is settled very dangerously over his, her knee grazing a...sensitive area. She wants to curse...more than ever before. Instead, she resolves to silently break from him. But of course, she’s never been able to go quietly because his eyes fly open and curve questioningly at her.

“Sorry,” she swallows the word as she disentangles herself from him.

“What was it you said about not stealing my bed?” he’s easy to tease even in his own state of tiredness.

Caroline hopes he can see her unimpressed, flat expression because she can  _ definitely _ see his charming grin. “I was drunk. Doesn’t count,” she grumbles and turns over.

“Of course.”

She huffs and shifts further away, clinging to the pillow. There’s a gentle snicker from behind her but she shuts her eyes tight. Even still, she can feel his eyes burning into her back. “Stop staring at me. I’m too...hungo..ver..” her words grow lazier and disconnected until the sleep overcomes her once more.

* * *

“Caroline,” is the first thing she hears when she wakes up the second time. It’s soft and breathy. She almost wants to moan in delight. The next sensation is a brush of fingers over her face. In the state of deep sleep, her locks of blonde have swamped over her, likely clinging to stray drops of drool.

“Hm?” is all she can manage for the moment. In the clearing of her daze, her position of lying flat on her stomach is not the most graceful. She aims to negotiate with Katherine for more than just coffee and pastry for this.

He tucks the mess of hair behind her ear and murmurs, “You need to wake up. Your class is at ten, correct?”

The delivery of his words is just too soothing that the content is a delayed register. When it does hit, she practically throws herself up and exclaims, “Shit—”

Klaus has her held at the arms, thumbs running familiarly over the fabric and skin. It’s somehow even more thrilling than the night before. The reality of her now sober state is apparent. “No, it’s alright. It’s only nine,” he assures and releases her. She only wishes he would take hold of her once more.

“Oh.” She bites her lip as she settles on her knees, the wolf bedspread now a distorted mess around her.

“I made you coffee.”

Caroline blinks and looks towards the side table where steam is rising from a grey mug. He really is so... _ monochrome _ in his wardrobe and decor. Her heart flutters at the sight because, as embarrassing as it may be, the simple gesture is foreign to her. “Oh,” she repeats but swiftly shakes her head and grimaces. “I mean— Thank you.”

He offers a small smile, his eyes flitting over her face. She wonders if he might kiss her or even just ask her on a date. Last night was no dream; his interest is clear. But he moves back off the bed and announces, “I’ll just be in the kitchen.”

Caroline’s features freeze. She watches him take his leave and the questions start running wild through her head. The first of such is:  _ what the fuck?  _ Because quite frankly, she feels robbed.  _ Majorly _ robbed. Did the sight of her in the morning really turn him off? She knows drool isn’t  _ exactly _ charming but she knows damn well she’s worth overlooking such a flaw. It takes her a moment to shake herself out of that train of thought but she does, she hauls herself off the bed and stomps after him. “Um, excuse me?” she calls out when she reaches the threshold. “What was that?”

He’s midway ducking his head into a cup of coffee when she catches him. “Sorry?” His brows knit closely together, though the way his eyes slowly cascade down her frame mask the confusion.

“Yes, you should be.” She folds her arms and maintains the perfect posture. “Last night, you are all ‘ _ timing is important _ ’,” she can already see him holding back a chuckle at the imitation of his voice but she’s too determined to stop, “but I was  _ literally _ in your bed in  _ your _ shirt and you hand me a coffee...and leave?”

Klaus’ eyes flare wide as he presses his lips tightly. He turns to settle the mug atop the counter and the remnants of a suppressed laugh bleed through his reply, “I thought you might want some privacy.”

“Oh my god,” she exhales, stretching her arms out as she strides across the living area. She isn’t in need of any coffee to wake her up or provide sense when her irritation has every base covered. “What I  _ want _ is you to...to…”

His eyebrow quirks upward in time with his lips. “To what?” he asks, breaching the small space between them until the heat of his chest is radiating off on her. They’ve met at the boundary of the kitchen and living space and she’s more invigorated than ever.

“Make a freaking move!” she squeaks, her eyes wide. “I mean  _ seriously _ , do you think I just do  _ this _ ,” she gestures wildly to the t-shirt hanging at her knees, “with the rest of the study group ‘cause  _ hello _ ? No, I d—”

She doesn’t get to finish her rant. His palms are pressed to either side of her face and he pulls her in. He kisses her greedily, an inhale through his nose the only sound in the quiet of his kitchen. There’s no time for her to realise that she’s likely suffering from a case of terrible hangover breath because she’s easily lost in his grasp. She does her best to keep up with the rhythm and feels her cheeks grow heated; she isn’t sure what she had expected but the reality isn’t unwelcome. She only wishes her mouth wasn’t so dry. When he parts, he does it with great reluctance and his lips run over hers, meeting the tip of her nose briefly. She lets her eyes flutter open and in the haze, he’s tilting his head and refusing to give eye contact. Instead, his eyes linger on her lips as he says in a hush, “Did you mean something like that?”

The words send a thrill down her back and she realises that her hand is pressed tightly to his chest. She waits for him to look at her, the expectancy on his face so unlike him, and stutters out, “Like that, y-yeah.”

His hands smooth down her jaw. One hand falls away but the other remains, brushing stray hairs away from her cheek. “What time do you finish class?” he asks.

“Twelve,” escapes her without a single thought. She’s still trying to sort through the stirring heat within as a result of him  _ making a move _ .

“Humanities building?”

“Yeah.”

He presses his lips into a smile and his fingers find the inside of her elbow. The warmth it provides her is electrifying. She contemplates skipping class, pulling him into the bedroom and letting her urges take over. Or excusing herself for a shower...and inviting him to join. But she really hates missing class. Thankfully, he makes the decision for her when he says, “Okay, I’ll see you then, sweetheart?”

Caroline can only manage a nod this time. Because her heart is caught in her throat and she’s realising that her interest in him might be a little more than plain  _ interest _ . And that  _ little _ more might lead to a  _ lot _ more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **COMMENTS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED**
> 
> **Thanks for reading the third and final part! Please leave me your thoughts and HAPPY NEW YEAR!**
> 
> **xx Lottie**

**Author's Note:**

> **COMMENTS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED**


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